


staying dry

by Walkingfelony



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: College AU, F/M, Human AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2018-01-25 23:14:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1666043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walkingfelony/pseuds/Walkingfelony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of course it’s raining, Lydia thinks to herself as she stares out of the glass windows. Even though the weather forecast didn’t call for rain, here it is. And of course she forgot her umbrella in the car on the opposite side of campus. That’s a fast ten minute walk—in flats. </p><p>“Do you want to share my umbrella?”</p><p>The voice startles Lydia for a moment, causing her to turn toward the speaker. Scott McCall stands behind her with a smile on his face and a red umbrella in his hand. </p><p>“I can just wait it out here,” she says, turning to look back at the downpour outside. “I’m sure it’ll pass.”</p><p>It doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	staying dry

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](http://aeroplaneblues.tumblr.com/post/86351325495/this-charming-man-im-probably-going-to-overuse) lovely piece of art.
> 
> Sort of a prequel to [this](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1163877).
> 
> All mistakes are my own.

Of course it’s raining, Lydia thinks to herself as she stares out of the glass windows. Even though the weather forecast didn’t call for rain, here it is. And of course she forgot her umbrella in the car on the opposite side of campus. That’s a fast ten minute walk—in flats. She hasn’t worn flats since last spring.

It would be raining today. Of course it would. The day she’s had blocked out for finishing up the second part of her Statistics project so that she could focus primarily on Chemistry the next day. Of course there would have to be a wrench thrown into her planning. Her _perfectly_ laid plan. 

She was supposed to walk to her Audi and then drive by Starbucks for a venti caramel light frappuccino (only 190 calories, thank you very much), followed by arriving at her and Erica’s off campus apartment so that she can get down to business while wearing the much-too-large-for-her-frame sweatshirt that she likes to snuggle-study in (which is definitely a thing—Stiles introduced the concept last semester, and studying has never been more enjoyable).

But that’s ruined and her hair will frizz as her bag and laptop get destroyed. This isn’t some nice drizzle. It’s a monsoon.

“Do you want to share my umbrella?”

The voice startles Lydia for a moment, causing her to turn toward the speaker. Scott McCall stands behind her with a smile on his face and a red umbrella in his hand. 

“I can just wait it out here,” she says, turning to look back at the downpour outside. “I’m sure it’ll pass.”

She feels Scott’s presence beside her, and glances over at him.

“It’s no problem for me to walk you to your car.”

“It’s on the other side of campus.”

“I’ve got time.”

“We’ll get soaked.”

“Then we can go to mine.”

Lydia slightly angles her body toward Scott and leans over a bit. “You’ll have to do better than that if you want me to go back to your room.”

The look on Scott’s face is dumbfounded for a moment, before his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “No. What? Not like that! I’m just offering study space.”

“McCall—”

“I just know how much you like to study for classes and you and Stiles have that Chemistry project or something coming up—”

“McCall.”

“—and it would suck to work on homework in the lecture hall since that place is uncomfortable as hell and the library’s far away and the rain is dangerous to drive in—“

“ _McCall._ ” Lydia grabs his wrist, causing Scott to stop his stream of consciousness talking. “I was kidding. Just calm down.”

“Okay,” he says slowly. “But I really only mean for you to study.”

“I’m not expecting anything else.” 

 Lydia releases his arm and walks toward the door, mentally preparing herself to step out into the rain. Scott apparently decides not to come with her. She turns as she places a hand on the door. “Are you coming? Or was your offer a joke?”

Snapping out of whatever goes on inside of that head of his, Scott bounds toward the door like a puppy and shoves the door open while opening his umbrella in one movement. It’s actually a bit impressive that he makes it look so smooth, Lydia acknowledges to herself. He holds open the door and keeps the umbrella up over the entrance in a valiant attempt to protect her from the rain.

The door shuts behind them, resulting in Lydia drifting close to Scott and the heat that’s radiating from him.

“Ready?” he yells over the sound of the rain. She nods her response and walks beside him under the umbrella.

It’s a mostly quiet walk to Scott’s room. Not that Lydia feels the need to talk to him. He’s a nice guy and actually not a bad verbal sparring partner, but they’ve never really spoken or acknowledged each other outside of their history lecture last semester. Honestly, if it weren’t for Stiles being her Chemistry partner or having to sit beside Scott because of the rare collegiate seating chart, Lydia probably wouldn’t talk to Scott.

But all of that doesn’t matter because she’s talked to him. Is talking to him. Whatever. At least she knows him well enough to know that he doesn’t think he’s getting lucky tonight, and that she’ll definitely be focusing all of her attention on her school work. 

And his room is clean. Or at least, she assumes it is. Scott was always very organized in class, and Stiles has ADHD and OCD and slew of other things that would cause their room to be an organized sanctuary for her work.

They are about one hundred feet from Smith Hall when Lydia’s finds herself trying to avoid falling forward into what looks like a miniature lake. She is saved by Scott’s arm snaking around her waist and pulling her against his body.

Lydia doesn’t know what’s more surprising: Scott’s quick reflexes or the brick wall of a body that he pulled her against. Scott steadies her and she backs up a step, her hand gripping his arm. His very built arm. She gives him a quick once over. He definitely didn’t look like this when they had history together. 

“Are you okay?” he asks loudly over the rain. He sounds a bit worried and Lydia can’t decide whether to play helpless damsel or strong woman. _Please._

“Excellent,” she responds as she straightens herself, Scott’s arm loosening just a bit.

He doesn’t remove his arm completely as they quickly make their way to his dorm, but Lydia’s not complaining. His body is warm and outside is cold.

He releases her when they finally reach the dorm so that he can open the door for her. It takes him a few minutes to actually lead her to his room once they enter the building since he seems to know everyone who’s walking around or lounging on the couches. And of course he has to say hello and acknowledge all of them.

Finally, after a third girl has smiled and said hello to him, Scott makes his way down the hallway as Lydia follows closely behind. They come to a stop in front of a door at the end of the hallway, and he turns his key in the door’s lock and opens it.

Lydia looks into the room as Scott ushers her inside. It’s twice as big as her room was when she was a dorm student and the furniture is _much_ better quality. 

“How did you and Stiles swing this?” she asks as she drops her Chloé bag into the chair at the desk that’s probably Scott’s judging by the picture of him and a nurse on the shelf above it. 

“Stiles lived on campus over the summer to help remodel some of the dorms,” Scott says. “I guess this was a reward.”

“Nice.”

“Yeah.”

Lydia makes her way around the room, looking things over before noticing that Scott has gone quiet. Turning on her heel, she faces Scott and smiles. 

“Will you be in here the entire time?”

“No,” Scott says, snapping out of whatever trance he had been in. He seems to get lost in his mind a lot, Lydia notices. Too bad she isn’t majoring in psychology like she originally planned. She might be able to use him for analytical practice. She probably will, regardless.

“I, um, I have work,” he says as he heads to a dresser and begins to pull clothes out of the drawers.

“Good.” Lydia flips her hair over her shoulder and goes back to Scott’s desk, mentally making a list of things that she can accomplish while she waits out the storm with her MacAir and iPad. She’s picking up her Chloé bag when Scott clears his throat.

“Yes?” she asks, glancing in his direction.

“Do you mind if I change?”

Lydia gives Scott’s body a look before sitting down in the chair. “It’s nothing that’ll phase me.”

“Thanks?” Scott says, as if he doesn’t know whether to be insulted or relieved. Lydia just shrugs.

“You’re welcome.”

Pulling her computer out of her bag, she sets up shop on the desk with the sounds of him rustling in the background. She’s reaching into her bag for her pencil case when Scott clears his throat by the door. 

“I’m heading out,” he says as she looks over at him. “Do you need anything?”

“Nope.”

“Okay.”

“Alright.”

Scott stands at the door for a little bit longer. 

“McCall.”

“Right. Sorry. Bye.”

He closes the door softly and Lydia turns back to work, but is immediately interrupted by the door reopening.

“There’re drinks in the fridge,” Scott says as he sticks his head back in the doorway.

“Okay.”

“And Stiles keeps organic snacks in that cabinet, but actual food is under my bed.”

“Thanks.”

“If it gets too cold there are sweatshirts in my closet. Stiles said he told you about snuggle-studying, so if you need one…”

“McCall—“

He starts to step into the room.

“I’ll just get you one—“

“ _McCall.”_

“Sorry,” he says, backing up through the doorway. “Sorry. I’m going.” He walks back out the door, shutting it slowly.

Shaking her head, Lydia starts on her work. 

The door opens again.

Scott walks straight to Lydia and grabs a stack of post it notes and a sharpie and scribbles something down before taking the note off and handing it to Lydia.

“My number,” he explains. “Just in case you need special food or coffee or have the urge to snapchat or something.”

“Snapchat?”

“Yeah. It’s this app that you take pictures with—“

“I know what snapchat is,” she says. 

His cheeks turn a shade of pink. “Still. Just in case.”

“Thank you.”

He stands there beside her for a moment.

“Never have a girl in your room before, McCall?”

“No. I mean, yes. I mean—“

“Don’t you have to get to work at,” Lydia looks down at Scott’s work shirt, “Hale’s Gym?” Well that explains those arms.

“Shit. Yes.” Scott practically runs to the door, before turning around and looking back at Lydia. “But seriously. If you need anything—“

“Go!” 

And he does.

Lydia starts work with a smile on her face.

*

“Why are you in my room?” Stiles voice brings Lydia back to the real world and she looks over to where her Chemistry partner is standing in the doorway.

“Scott said that I could wait out the storm in here.”

Stiles squints at her. “The storm’s been over for three hours.”

“Are you serious?”

“Dead.”

“Dammit.” Lydia begins to close up shop at Scott’s desk as she hears Stiles’ heavy footstep make their way to the other side of the room.

“How long have you been here anyway?” he asks while she’s shoving her laptop back into her bag. She pauses as she thinks back to when her last class was.

“Since two, I think.” She reaches for her phone, only to find a black screen waiting for her. It appears to have died since she’s been there. That explains the lack of messages.

“Are you serious?”

“Dead.” Lydia swivels to look at him, placing the phone back on the desk. “Why?”

“Have you looked at a clock?” His arms flail to point at the alarm clock on the bedside table and her eyes follow.

“ _Dammit._ ”

“I’ve got Taco Bell,” Scott says cheerfully as he swings the door open and barges into the room. He stops in mid-slam of the door when he sees Lydia and tilts his head. “You’re still here?”

“I’m sorry. I just lost track of time.” Lydia shoves her notes and iPad in her bag alongside of her laptop, trying to hurry as much as possible because she _has_ to print this out. But also trying to prolong her stay because…reasons. She doesn’t really know why she has the urge to stay.

“It’s fine,” Scott says as he comes over to his desk where she’s standing. “Have you eaten?”

“I’m fine.”

“I have Taco Bell.” He holds up the plastic bag. Lydia has to stop her stomach from growling. 

She’s tempted to say yes. She hasn’t eaten in at least nine hours. The only thing that has entered her stomach is a bottle of water and a Pepsi can that she found in the fridge back when she could _feel_ the storm raging outside. She can’t decide if this should be a cheat day or not.

“What? No. That’s for me,” Stiles pipes up from behind her and suddenly appears to grab the bag out of Scott’s hand. 

“She can have mine,” Scott offers.

“It’s fine,” Lydia says, forgetting her stomach for the moment. “I need to get going.” She can always call ahead to Erica and see if she could make her something before she gets home.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Thanks for letting me work in here. I got a lot done.”

“Any time.”

There’s an awkward silence as Lydia and Scott stand at his desk, the only sound coming from where Stiles is eating.

“I’ll see you in Chem tomorrow,” Stiles says snapping Lydia into moving toward the door. Her hand’s on the handle when Stiles asks, “Is that Scott’s sweatshirt?”

Lydia wants to smack her head against something. She’s been so out of it today. “Snuggle-studying,” she explains, moving to remove the hoodie. “Let me just—“

“Keep it,” Scott stops her. “It’s cold outside.”

“Really.” 

Lydia raises an eyebrow as Stiles joins in, his mouth full, “Yeah, really?”

Scott shrugs and gives Lydia a small smile. “It looks better on you, anyway.”

Lydia’s eyes flick from Scott to Stiles, who looks confused for a moment, but then goes back to eating his food.

“I’ll see you around,” she says as she opens the door.

“Wait,” Scott practically shouts, causing her to stop. “I can’t let you walk across campus by yourself.”

Lydia shrugs. “I do it all the time.”

“Not at night.”

“I can take care of myself,” she tells him, but he raises an eyebrow at her that makes her think that he’s going to try to persuade her to let him walk her to her car no matter what. Might as well indulge him. “Fine.”

Scott smiles at her and walks over to the door.

“Bye, Stiles,” Lydia says as she steps out of the room.

“Be safe,” he says, voice muffled by food and the closing door.

It’s a silent trip across the campus. Scott doesn’t seem to want to talk. At all. And Lydia’s not about to initiate a conversation with him since he’s the one who insisted that he walk her to her car.

But for all the silence, it’s actually a nice walk with him. It’s all comfortable silence and the occasional brushing of shoulders. Lydia didn’t know she would enjoy the walk back to her car as much as she is.

They reach her car, both stopping to stand at the driver’s door. Scott shoves his hand further into his leather jacket, Lydia mimicking the movement as well as she can with his sweatshirt.

“Well, thanks,” she says, offering him a smile.

He smiles back as she opens the car door. “Yep.”

She stands in the space between the open door and the rest of the car as she looks around them quickly. “I can drive you to your dorm—“

“Nah,” he says, his hand coming out of his pockets so that he can pat his stomach. “I need to run off the inevitable stomach ache from Taco Bell.”

She rolls her eyes at this, sliding down into the driver’s seat. “See you around.”

“Okay.” He smiles as her again and takes a step back, tipping his head. “Martin.”

She smiles back. “McCall.”

*

Scott comes up behind her the next time it rains. “Need to stay dry?” he asks, causing her to look up from her phone.

Lydia shakes her head. “I can wait—“

“The storms here last for hours,” he says as he removes his umbrella from his backpack. “And you got a lot done the last time.”

Lydia nods and smiles down at her phone. “It was very beneficial.”

Scott moves toward the door, looking back as he reaches the glass. “Well?”

“Fine,” she says, adjusting the strap of her Chloé bag on her shoulder before heading to join Scott. “I’ll try to get out as soon as possible.”

“I expect nothing less,” he says as they step out into the rain.

They’ve walked maybe a hundred yards when he says, “I never got my sweatshirt back.”

She looks at him out of the corner of her eye to see him looking straight ahead with a little smile on his face. “Maybe I collect sweatshirts,” she says, fixing her gaze ahead, as well.

She can hear the smile in his voice as he asks, “Do you?”

She smirks. “No.” 

They walk in silence for a minute, before she adds her voice back to the rain. “Are you working tonight?”

“Yeah,” he says. “I’ll be back at 10.”

“Still working at Hale’s?”

“As far as I know.”

They reach the door of his dorm, pausing at the entrance. “Are you planning on being here when I come back?” he asks.

“I’m setting an alarm on my phone,” she says, reaching for the door handle. She looks over at Scott to see him smiling at her.

“I’ll bring food back just case,” he says, maneuvering his arm so that he can hold the door open for her.

She steps into the building, looking back at him to give him a smile. “I won’t be here when you get back.”

He smiles in response. “Then more food for me.”

*

She forgot to set her alarm.

She’s still working when he gets back.

“I got salad,” he says, interrupting her work flow.

“Dammit. I’m sorry,” she moves to get up, but Scott stops her.

“It’s fine,” he says, placing the salad on the desk. “Seriously.” He taps the container as she starts to protest. “Eat your salad.”

She engages in a staring contest with him before finally relenting as her stomach growls. Sighing, she turns back to the desk and opens the container. “Where’s this from?”

“The gym,” he explains. “I guilted Derek into giving me his food when he came back from his trip to Whole Foods.”

“You’re giving me your boss’ salad?” Lydia laughs, turning to look at him again. She pauses, however, when she sees him stripping out of his shirt.

“Technically,” he says, removing his shirt completely, before turning away from Lydia with his (unsurprisingly toned) back muscles on display.

“Peter’s my boss,” he continues as Lydia forces her eyes away from him and back to her salad. “He’s the actual owner. Derek just sits around at the welcome desk flexing muscles and signing women up for memberships.” Scott places a bottle of water next to Lydia’s salad. “He also does runner’s training.”

“Quite the stud,” she says, looking up at him to find him in another shirt. Shame.

“He really is,” Scott says as he opens his own water bottle.

“Derek Hale is such a fuc—“ Stiles voice comes from the doorway as the door slams against the wall. He stops at the sight of Lydia and Scott. “Oh. You’re here.” He shuts the door and then looks back at them. “Why are you here? With food?”

“It’s Derek’s,” Scott says.

Stiles lets out a groan at the mention of Derek’s name, throwing his hands in the air. “Ugh, that man!

Scott smiles at Lydia as she takes a bite of her salad, preparing to listen to Stiles’ woes.

*

“I’m starting to think that you just leave your umbrella at home when it rains.”

Lydia smiles at the window. It’s the fourth time in two weeks that she’s been without an umbrella. It just happens. 

“Don’t flatter yourself, Scott,” she says, hearing what sounds like him taking the umbrella out of his book bag.

“Do you not have a weather app or something on that phone?” he asks.

“It never says that it’s going to rain when it actually rains.” Lydia looks over at the door where Scott’s leaning, an easy smile on his face.

“Maybe you should just start carrying an umbrella around with you,” he says with a shrug, “just in case.”

“Why do you carry an umbrella around with you all the time, Scott?” She steps closer to him. “I can’t imagine that you’re actually scared of getting wet.”

“I use it to get beautiful girls to walk in close vicinity to me for extended periods of time.”

“I’m pretty certain you don’t need an umbrella for that.”

A bright smile appears on Scott’s face. “Are you _flirting_ with me, Lydia?”

Lydia steps over to the door, pushing slightly on it. “I’m bored now,” she tells him, trying to stop a smirk from coming to her lips. “And you wish.”

*

“I’m getting you an umbrella for Christmas,” he says as he approaches her for the twelfth time since she first went back to his room. Apparently California has a monsoon season.

Lydia joins him at the door, letting him open it for her. “Are we getting each other presents for Christmas?”

He shrugs as they step out into the rain. “I think our friendship is at that stage.”

“‘Friendship?’” Lydia asks, wrapping her arms around herself. The rain’s the cold kind today. And she, of course, forgot a jacket.

“What would you call our relationship?” he asks, stepping closer as they continue on their walk.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? But we have this great back and forth banter. That usually means some sort of friendship,” he says, throwing an arm around her shoulder in a way that she thinks is probably meant to be friendly, but gives her a strange, pleasant feeling that doesn’t come when Erica hugs her.

“Stiles and I go back and forth and he’s my best friend,” Scott continues, “and Allison and Stiles do too. Also, Stiles and—“

“I’m not Stiles, Scott,” she reminds him, pushing at his side lightly.

“Thank God for that,” he says with a laugh, pulling her in tighter. “My dreams would be hella awkward then.”

Lydia stops. “What?”

Scott stops. “What?”

“What.”

“ _What_.”

*

It’s been a month since it’s rained hard enough for Lydia to need to walk to Scott’s with him. She usually exits right after class. No need to stick around for Scott. That would seem…a bit unusual and slightly desperate. Maybe.

They do hang out outside of walking in the rain. But it’s mainly with Stiles and Erica and some other mutual friends. Never just the two of them. 

They also snapchat. A lot. Mainly she sends him pictures of herself in the sweatshirt she’s never returned as she does daily tasks while he takes pictures of Taco Bell and himself post workout. But, honestly, it’s the pictures and videos of him at work or doing something stupid (usually with Stiles) that she likes the most.

And if she’s still being honest, she kind of misses walking in the rain with him. Alone.

And if she purposely left her umbrella in her car even though the forecast called for massive amounts of rain, well, that’s her own business.

She’s standing at the window, pulling his sweatshirt tighter around her when she hears his voice.

“Ready?”

She turns to smile at him, finding him smiling at her with a fond look on his face. 

“Definitely.”

**Author's Note:**

> my [tumblr](http://darkmysteriouspissed.tumblr.com)
> 
> This fic was unbeta'd. I apologize for any mistakes.


End file.
